Rachel's Second Time
by stix04
Summary: Follow-up to Quinn's Second Time. The morning after.


Rachel felt marvelous! The birds were chipping, the sun was shinning, and she could almost hear the opening bars of _Good Morning, Good Morning_ if she listened hard enough.

The brunette stretched languidly, eyes still closed, as she smiled at whatever residual loveliness she felt from her dream.

And then everything went to crap.

The first awful thing in a series of _many_ awful things that morning, happened when she turned over to get more comfortable and landed with a _smack_, face first on the floor. Her eyes opened wide in realization that she was _not_ in her bedroom and thus why she hit hardwood flooring after she rolled off the couch, instead of cozying up further in her queen-sized bed at home.

Suddenly Rachel became aware of several things: One, her head was pounding. Two, she felt extremely nauseous. Three, she was half naked. And four, she had no idea where the hell she was.

As Rachel pushed up on her palms to survey the room, the front door opened with a _click_ and was shut loudly, followed by the sound of keys hitting a table.

"Quinn?" Was called from somewhere not far off.

"Oh crap!" Rachel whispered in terror, eyes scanning frantically as she searched all around her for her t-shirt and skirt, noting the smiling face of a young Quinn Fabray was framed and sitting on the end table.

"Quinnie?" The voice was on the move and Rachel was tossing pillow after pillow off the couch in a hunt for something to cover herself with. She almost cheered out loud when she found her clothes and quickly threw them on her body.

"Quinn Fabray, are you still asleep at eleven o'clock?" Judy yelled playfully somewhere _very_ close by. At the sound of Mrs. Fabray's voice, Rachel dropped to her knees in front of the couch and quickly army-crawled around the table to the chair by the back of the room. She hid behind it as she waited for things to get worse.

"Where are you Quinn?" Rachel pleaded under her breath.

"I swear that girl would sleep through a monsoon." Judy Fabray mumbled to herself as she walked into the living room. As the woman took in the state around her, she tutted and sucked her teeth. "She is in _serious_ trouble." Pillows were lying all around the room, blankets were tossed unceremoniously over different surfaces, and _The_ bottle of vodka was sitting on top of the coffee table like a trophy, half empty….or half full, depending upon your life philosophy.

And because the situation wasn't bad enough, at that precise moment, someone decided that they'd call Rachel Berry.

Rachel winced hard from behind the couch as _Ring, Ring, Ring_ by Abba started blasting shrilly from her cell from wherever it lay hidden. The brunette didn't risk looking, but she was pretty sure Judy Fabray was in the process of locating the source of music.

"Hello?" Judy said as she answered the phone. Rachel's hands clapped over her face as she whimpered quietly, hoping that whoever was on the other end of the line wouldn't give her up.

"No, this is Judy Fabray, Quinn's mother, who is this?" The blonde sounded vaguely suspicious and Rachel was positive that at any moment she'd wet herself.

"Well I don't know any Rachel Berrys, but if I find her I'll give her the message." Rachel cringed again and held her breath, convinced that she was breathing so loudly whoever had called her could hear. She listened as Judy shut her phone and waited for the sound of her dropping it on some surface, but it never came.

"QUINN!"

"Oh thank, Barbara!" Rachel breathed out as she listened to the sound of Judy's retreating stomps. She was presumably on her way to Quinn's bedroom on the second floor, and Rachel quickly ducked out from her hiding spot.

"Double crap!" She hissed as her eyes roved over the room but didn't spot her cell phone. Her head jerked up at the sound of a door slamming upstairs and the brunette decided that cell phones were overrated and hurriedly made a break for the front door.

Once she was out, she half sped-walked half sprinted down the street with as much dignity as possible and it wasn't until she was inside her house that she took a deep breath. She leant against her front door, shut her eyes, and collected herself.

"Quinn Fabray, you have a lot of explaining to do!" Rachel gritted out between a clenched jaw.

The brunette needed a shower, a few Aspirin, a thorough oral cleansing, and maybe a piece of toast or two. She was about to take care of her business when firm knocking sounded behind her.

Out of instinct, Rachel dropped to the floor and looked wildly around for a weapon; convinced that Judy Fabray was on the other side of the door, gun in hand, ready to pump Rachel full of bullets for consuming mass amounts of alcohol in her house, performing lesbian sex with her youngest daughter, and the mistreatment of her throw pillows in her desperate morning search for her clothing.

"Rachel?" Rachel let out a relieved breath and slowly got to her feet and unlocked the door. There stood Finn Hudson, looking extremely humongous and very shy. "Hey, Rachel." The brunette calmed her breathing and laid a hand over her thrumming heart.

"Finn. What are you doing here?" Rachel's eyes went immediately wide. "You didn't happen to just call my phone, did you?" She asked with panic.

"Nooo? Why?" He asked as he looked down at her questioningly. Rachel wet her lips and shook her head as if to dismiss the topic, her eyes darting around trying to process everything that had happened in such a sort time.

"It does not matter, come in." She said with a sweeping gesture of her arm while donning a mask of delight; a performance habit. Finn awkwardly moved into the house and over to one of the chairs in Rachel's living room.

"I thought we could talk about a few things." He said as he sat. The brunette tried to rearrange her features as though she was politely interested, but inside her mind was racing.

Where was Quinn this morning? What happened last night? What did it mean? Would Judy Fabray ever give back her phone and if she did, would there be long distance calls and text messages that went over her limit on her bill? Would _Rachel_ be forced to pay if there were?

Rachel bit her lip as each question zipped through her head. She unconsciously smoothed out her very wrinkled skirt as she tried to answer her own questions.

How did she feel about last night? Did she have feelings for Quinn? What if Quinn never spoke to her again? Maybe Quinn had left early to get them supplies for a lovely breakfast together? What if she woke up beside her and completely freaked? Would she upgrade to the new iPhone, and if so, could she get it bedazzled?

"Are you okay?" Rachel's head jerked up at the question, forgetting completely that Finn was sitting only a few feet away, looking at her as though she were crazy.

"Oh yes, sorry, Finn." The brunette said, smoothing out her hair, trying to look as though she didn't just perform the walk of shame. "You said you wanted to talk?" She sat up in her chair, folding her hands in her lap and looked at the tall boy with fake interest. She watched as he nervously shifted his eyes around the room and then cleared his throat with confidence.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking." He said, meeting her gaze. But his words got muffled and Rachel's eyes glazed over as her thoughts traveled to the previous night…

"_What are we doing, Quinn?" Rachel asked as the blonde sprinkled soft kisses down her long neck. _

"_Shhhh, don't think." Quinn implored. But all Rachel could do _was_ think. Think about how amazing it felt with the blonde on top of her, how her heart felt full and her body worshiped. _

_Never had Rachel ever felt so safe. It didn't matter that it was Quinn Fabray kissing her, touching her; it was though they had done this a thousand times—that this wasn't her _first_ time. And despite the newness, despite never having gotten this far with anyone—or wanting to get this far—Rachel could not recall a time she'd ever been this thoroughly aroused. _

_With Finn, _she_ had to get the ball rolling, telling the boy he could kiss her. Puck had asked as though he was inquisitive about the weather. And Jesse barely said hello before his tongue was down her throat; which was extremely ironic considering that he had sung it. _

_But Quinn didn't need prompting. But she wasn't forceful either. It was natural…it was respectful…it was _long_ overdue, Rachel quickly realized. _

_Rachel captured the blonde's face gently and looked up at her as her thumbs stroked the skin of Quinn's cheeks. _

"_How long?" She asked carefully, looking deeply into Quinn's molten eyes. The blonde's gaze roamed over Rachel and instead of answering, leaned down and hungrily imprisoned the brunette's mouth with her own. _

_It was though Quinn poured her answer into the kiss: a long time. She had wanted to be with Rachel for a long time. _

_And like peering down at a flipbook, scenes of the blonde's behavior towards the diva throughout the years, flashed through her mind as she kissed the girl back. She wasn't sure why she had never seen it, but it was as obvious as one of those Magic Eye images; once you noticed it, you wondered how you never saw it to begin with. _

"_Oh, Quinn." Rachel breathed out against the girl's lips, saddened at the thought of the blonde closing her feelings off and hiding through cruelty. _

_The brunette slowed the kiss and carefully pushed against Quinn until the blonde was on her back, chest heaving and looking up at Rachel with so much vulnerability that Rachel suddenly felt overwhelmed by her emotions. _

_It clicked, out of seemingly nowhere, why Quinn's approval and attention always meant so much to her. Why, despite the many knocks from the blonde, Rachel always went back for more in hopes of having some kind of relationship. _

_Supporting herself on one hand, Rachel slowly bent down and laid a soft kiss on the blonde's lips. She pulled back before Quinn could deepen it, but instead repeated the action—slowing everything down to express how much it meant to the brunette. _

_The blonde quickly picked up on the new pace Rachel was setting, and slid her hand to the nap of the brunette's neck and tenderly kneaded the muscles she found. Their eyes locked and held as Rachel's fingers caressed Quinn's cheek, down to her neck, across her collarbone and shoulders, and skimmed past the girl's breasts and down to her stomach. _

_Quinn gasped slightly, her breath hitching, as Rachel's fingers dipped under the blonde's dress and ran up her smooth, long legs until they came to rest on her bare hip. _

_The brunette was surprised by her own actions; marveling at how bold she was being. It was though another puzzled piece snapped into place, Rachel realized suddenly why although she was an advocate for a healthy sex life, she had never preformed the act. _

_Rachel watched as Quinn's eyes snapped shut almost painfully as she gulped and then fluttered open. The brunette saw how scared and nervous she was and gave the girl a soft smile that Quinn didn't return. She just bit her lip and nodded, shaking slightly as Rachel's hand danced down her stomach and leisurely stroked the outside of her thigh. _

"_I don't know why I'm..." Quinn let out a shuddering breath and she closed her eyes again. "I don't know what I'm doing." Rachel wasn't sure if she meant that she was inexperienced or unsure of why she was lying underneath the brunette. _

"_Me either." Was the only honest reply Rachel could give her at the time. Her brain was still alcohol-soaked and the warm, subtle scent of Quinn Fabray was making her dizzy. "But I guess I do at the same time." She breathed out as she bent down to meet Quinn's lips and her hand softly stroked the blonde's thigh. _

"Are you even listening?" Rachel shook her head to clear it as she felt her eyes zone in on the affronted Finn Hudson. She cleared her throat to play for time—and also because she found herself to be a little caught up in the moment.

"Of course." The brunette quickly cleared her voice a few more times after hearing how deep and husky it was, probably a result of her trip down memory lane. "Of course." She said again, this time with a little more professionalism. "I was just trying to think through my counter-argument." Rachel lied, but figured it was a safe response and one the boy was expecting. And thankfully he nodded along as though he figured as much.

"I get it now that you were sort of on the rebound. Kurt explained it to me." Finn said with a half smile and a shrug as he tilted his head like he was apologizing for that fact that he didn't figure it out himself. "I didn't give you enough time after Jesse, so I understand why you ended things."

Rachel's eyes went a little wide in disbelief as she tried to follow along instead of wondering if sending flowers to Quinn would be too much.

"I see." The brunette said slowly, not wanting to give anything away.

_Daisies. She's definitely a daisy type of girl. _

"…Don't you think?"

_Crap, I missed something!_

"I'm sorry, Finn. Could you repeat that?" She asked with a big smile.

"I said that we should try again? Maybe go a little slower this time?" He looked serious, his brow low and his lips a thin line. Rachel thought hard on how she'd let the boy down gently. Cause even if she didn't just spend the night all over his ex, she wasn't at all interested in pursuing something with Finn Hudson.

"Finn," Rachel said tentatively and he braced himself. "I'm just not sure if-"

"This is crap, Rachel!" Finn said suddenly as he jumped to his feet. "I really love you and I can't believe that you're still making me pay for what happened after Sectionals! I said I was sorry!"

"And I accepted your apology, Finn," She yelled back, getting to her feet as well. "But I am not interested in pursuing a courtship with you. I am sincerely sorry if this damages any chance of us being friends but at this particular time I am not entertaining potential male suitors and I think it would be best if you would leave." She said firmly as she gestured towards the door.

"This is crap." He repeated after one long look at the brunette before he made his way to the door. But just as he was about to walk out, Rachel grabbed his arm and stopped him. There appeared to be a glimmer of hope in the boy's eyes, but the brunette didn't catch it.

"Is there any possibly way that I could get Quinn's number from you? I've seemed to misplace my phone and it's very urgent that I get a hold of her." Rachel looked up at him with doe eyes and he stared at her in incredulity.

"You're unbelievable."

"Thank you." She said with a faux modest smile that a veteran actor would be jealous of.

"That wasn't a compliment, Rachel!"

"Oh." She said, looking down, properly chastised.

"And you're such a hypocrite!" Rachel's mouth dropped open as she looked back up at him.

"I am in no way a hypocrite, Finn Hudson!" He shook his head and looked at her with disgust.

"You didn't change one bit. It's that stupid music video all over again. Quinn treated you like shit and, what, now you're friends?"

"It's hardly the same-"

"I hurt you after Sectionals when I was worried about being popular and so you didn't want to be with me after I realized what an ass I had been. But it's okay that Quinn's the same way?"

"But…it _is _different." Rachel said but without confidence.

"Well maybe because you two aren't dating." She bit her lip and looked away at his words. "I can't believe that you're willing to be friends with Quinn, after _everything_ she's put you through, but you can't give me another chance. You dated Puck even though he was an ass, Jesse, and we both know what a douche he turned out to be! And now you want to be best friends with Quinn? I'm a _nice_ guy, Rachel!"

"I know you are, Finn." Rachel said in a small voice.

"Is that the problem? You just like dating assholes?" He demanded. Rachel shook her head as she tried to disprove his theory.

"Whatever, Rachel. It's obvious that you're only into dating people that treat you like crap; always trying to win over an audience." The brunette was shaking her head again.

"Finn, I swear that-"

"Don't bother. Like I said, it's the music video all over again. I can't believe what a hypocrite you turned out to be. You reject me because I wanted to be popular, yet you surround yourself with popular people, no matter how shitty they treat you."

As Finn gave her one more look of distaste, Rachel thought about what he said as she watched him walk away, jamming his hands in his pockets as he went. It was the second time she had rejected Finn Hudson. And the second time he told her off for it.

Was he right? Was she a hypocrite that she was willing to forgive and forget with Quinn? To only date the "bad boy."

"But Quinn's different now." Rachel said out loud as she stood in the doorway watching the boy disappear down her street. But then the brunette recalled waking up alone and bit her lip. "Isn't she?"

As Rachel went to shut the front door, caught up in her own question, there were several loud honks from a car that stopped her progress. Pulling up in driveway, waving brightly and smiling was Tina and Artie.

"Of course," Rachel muttered to herself as she fixed a fake smile on her face and waved back. "Because _today_ I am Missus Popularity."

"There you are, Rach! I've been calling you all morning!" Tina said as by way of greeting as she got out of the car and met the brunette half way.

"Hey, Rach!" Artie called from the passenger seat. Rachel smiled back as she stood beside the car.

"Why does Mrs. Fabray have your phone?" Tina questioned with a tilt of her head.

"That broad be scary." Artie said with a shiver.

"I think she made Artie cry." Tina whispered to Rachel.

"Yes, she _is_ a little terrifying." Rachel mumbled. "I um…I must have dropped it… somewhere, _annnnd_ she found it…or…something." She lied as she tried to come up with a proper reason for Mrs. Fabray to have her phone. "I'm a little nervous to ask for it back."

"Scary. Like mother like daughter." Tina said with a roll of her eyes. Rachel frowned at the comment.

"Quinn's not all bad." Artie snorted and Tina shot her a look of disbelief.

"Rachel, she's horrible to you. She's not so bad to everyone else, but come on." Rachel was quiet as she processed everything; unsure of how she could defend Quinn without giving what happened last night away.

"Maybe I want to give her a second chance."

"If you enjoy masochism, be my guest." Again Rachel frowned. "Anyway, are you ready to go?" Tina asked, giving the brunette's disheveled appearance the once over. "Or did you forget about our shopping trip?" The diva closed her eyes as she remembered their plans to go to the mall.

She really wasn't up to it and she had a lot of thinking to do, but considering this time last year she had no friends, Rachel thought it was best to suck it up; she didn't want to discourage Tina and Artie from calling on her for social purposes again.

"I'm almost ready. Can you give me ten minutes?" Rachel asked, already backing away towards her house.

"Sure. Give you time to brush your JBF hair." Artie said with a smirk. Rachel scrunched up her brow as she tried to figure out what the boy had said.

"JBF hair?" Tina just chuckled.

"Just go get ready, Rach." Fifteen minutes, a quick shower, hygiene regimen, two Aspirin, a phone call to the local florist, and a Google search later—Rachel was bounding out of her house in fresh clothes with determination.

"I did _not_ have JBF hair, Artie Abrams!" Rachel scolded the laughing boy as she slipped into the backseat of Tina's car. Her face was still red after the Google search—and how right his comment was—and folded her arms across her chest as they drove.

As the threesome made their way towards the mall, Mercedes Jones opened the door to her roommate's room without knocking. She knew that Quinn was staying at her mother's house and needed the headband Quinn had borrowed for her trip out with Kurt.

As she went to grab the accessory off of Quinn's dresser, however, the sound of light sniffling stopped her in her tracks. Although she didn't see the blonde, she heard the soft crying coming from behind the pull-out doors of the closet.

"Quinn?" Mercedes called out gently as she carefully opened the doors. There, crying almost silently on the floor of her closet, was Quinn Fabray. "Aw, girl what's the matter?" Mercedes asked as she kneeled down in front of the blonde and slowly removed the girl's hands from her face.

Quinn just shook her head, not at all wanting to discuss what was running through her head. "I just want to be alone, Mercedes." The blonde whispered as she pulled her hands away from the other girl's, carefully, as though not to rebuff the girl's efforts.

"Quinn Fabray, get out of that closet and tell me what's wrong!" Not knowing how right her words were, Mercedes was startled as Quinn started sobbing louder. "_Orrrr_ stay there…that's fine too." Mercedes tried to sooth with wide eyes as she watched the shaking blonde almost comically hiccup through her tears.

"I hif nooo idddd whahahhaaa um dddoooooogg!" Mercedes' eyes went wider and her brows shot up at the completely unintelligible words streaming from her friend.

"I'm sorry, Quinn, but I didn't catch _any_ of that." The blonde looked up, tears falling fast down her flushed cheeks.

"I hif nooo iddd whahahahah um doooooooogggg!" Mercede's fake smile froze, her eyebrows higher as she tried to deconstruct what the girl was saying.

"How about we get you out of there, you take a nice long shower, I get you some coffee and a bagel, and we'll figure this out." Mercedes took Quinn's hand and stood her up and guided her out of the closet. The girl suddenly shrieked as the blonde engulfed her in a powerful hug, sobbing loudly on Mercedes' shoulder.

"Whahha wuuuud I dooooo wifaaaaaa oooyouuuuu!" Quinn wailed.

"Uhhhh, there, there, Quinn." Mercedes said awkwardly as she patted her friend's back. "Still don't know what the hell you're saying. But there, there."

A half an hour later, after a shower and some food, Quinn was feeling a little better. Granted, she wasn't able to glance down at her naked body in the shower, afraid of the marks she knew were there and couldn't face seeing.

As the blonde finished putting her hair up in a messy bun, there was a light tap on her door and she spun around to see Mercedes. "Hey, Quinn. Feeling better?"

Quinn nodded and smiled softly. "Much, thank you."

"Still don't want to talk about it?" The blonde rolled her eyes at her own emotions and offered a small grin to her friend.

"Not really ready to do that." Mercedes nodded.

"Kurt's downstairs. We're about to head out. You should come, get your mind off stuff." The idea of not sitting around the house all day and thinking was very appealing to the blonde. She honestly didn't have the energy to put up with the exhausting tag-team of Mercedes and Kurt, but she knew that she couldn't live inside her thoughts.

"That's sounds great." Quinn said with soft smile. Mercedes grinned and nodded.

"Sounds good girl." Quinn gave her a small grin of appreciation, glad that Mercedes wasn't pressing the issue of Quinn's breakdown.

"And maybe later you'll tell me who gave you all those hickeys." Mercedes said with a smug smile before she left the room, chuckling as she did so. Quinn slapped her hand against her neck, eyes wide in fear and face red in embarrassment, before she hastily pulled the band holding her hair up out, and smoothed the blonde strands down to cover up her neck.

Quinn was pleased that Mercedes had invited Santana and Brittany along with them on their mall trip. As her roommate and her best friend bantered back and forth about fashion and gossip, the blonde could pretend to be listening intently to the Cheerios—although the pair weren't really chatting about anything interesting either. But at least she wasn't required to participate.

An hour into shopping, Quinn needed a break. Her head was pounding and all her muscles felt as though she just had back to back Cheerios practices. She quickly excused herself from the rest of the group who were busying trying on shoes, and explained she'd be at the food court.

At first, Quinn was displeased when she found that she was being trailed by her friend, wanting to be alone, but as they sat silently across from one another at a small table in the food court, she was actually pleased she'd have someone to talk to, even if it went against her better instincts to not open up.

"Can I…" Quinn stalled as she planned out what she was trying to ask. Her companion was busy sucking hard on her straw, desperately trying to pull the milkshake out from within. Quinn sighed and tried again, ignoring how her friend just slapped her forehead hard in order to treat her brain freeze. "I did something."

Brittany's head snapped up at Quinn's words and looked at her curiously.

"What did you do?" She drawled out in an excited whisper. Quinn bit her lip and looked around the food court of the mall, searching for eavesdroppers.

"I did what you and Santana did the first night…you…_did_ stuff." Quinn rolled her eyes at her own statement; knowing that _anyone_ would have a problem following along with that sentence, most of all Brittany.

"You made sugar cookies?" The Cheerio asked slowly.

"What? No, the other thing." Quinn hissed back, mostly because she was mortified. But she needed to talk to someone. She loved Mercedes to death but she knew that before she even had finished telling her friend the story, Mercedes would have already texted the whole thing to everyone in her phone. Brittany could at least empathize. And quite frankly, she'd probably not even fully understand the weight of the gossip Quinn would be spilling.

"Sex?" She asked loudly back, awarding the pair a few raised eyebrows from the surrounding tables of people. Quinn closed her eyes as her jaw clenched, not wanting the attention, especially now.

"Yes!" She whispered back. She knew this was a bad idea. She had been taught to handle her problems alone, she shouldn't be talking about this; especially because it involved Rachel Berry.

"I thought you did that before." Brittany said, but with effort, as she tried to lick at the melting ice cream running down her cup. Quinn sighed and decided she should try a different tactic.

"No. I did what you did with Santana." She said slowly, trying to clarify that it was lesbian sex.

"You had sex with Santana?" Brittany inquired bemusedly, eyes wide and staring at Quinn.

"No," Quinn gritted back. "Rachel Berry!"

"Santana had sex with Rachel Berry?" Quinn's head made a loud _thump_ as she smashed it on the table.

"Never mind." She muttered, rolling her forehead side to side on the surface in frustration.

"Wow, gross." Brittany mumbled as she looked around the large, open area. At the Cheerio's words, Quinn's head snapped up and looked over at her friend with narrowed eyes.

"Why is it gross?" She asked carefully, not wanting to give herself away. Brittany shrugged.

"I just pictured Santana tying Rachel up with those sweaters she wears, gagging her with argyle socks." Brittany supplied as she sucked on her straw. Quinn, too, cringed, not at all liking the idea of her friend doing that to Rachel. Because…um…you know…the idea of two girls doing that is gross…not because she doesn't want anyone touching Rachel…that's not it at _all_!

"It wasn't like that." Quinn said distractedly, remembering how Rachel was with her: sweet, tender…and well…_sexy_.

"What? Rachel tied Santana up?" Brittany shrieked in surprise. Quinn was shaking her head empathically, eyes wide as she saw the Cheerio start to get up from her chair in excitement.

"No! Brittany! Wait, nothing happened, nothing happened!" She whispered hurriedly. But Brittany was already on the move, sprinting through the food court like she was on a mission—too caught up in what she just heard to process that Quinn was denying it ever happening.

Quinn quickly took off after her friend, knowing that Brittany was after the details from Santana.

But by the time Quinn found Brittany, it was too late. Only it was worse than she had anticipated. Because Santana was nowhere in sight. Because Brittany was animatedly telling a stunned, wide-eyed Mercedes and Kurt what she just heard. Because both Kurt and Mercedes already had their phones out, texting furiously.

"Wait…stop!" Quinn panted, doubled over. She definitely wasn't in Cheerios shape yet. "Nothing happened!" She tried to get out over inhaling large amounts of air. "They didn't…have…sex!" But to her horror, Mercedes and Kurt were now answering phone calls, practically salivating at the newest gossip as they shared their information.

"How freaking crazy is that?" Mercedes said into her phone, smiling like it was Christmas day. "Where you at, girl?" She asked, looking around the store as though whoever was on the other line would simply appear. "No shit, we're a floor above you! We'll meet you down there." Mercedes said, grinning broadly, as she closed her phone.

Kurt, too, ended his call, eyes wide in wonder. "Artie is downstairs."

"He's with Tina, let's go!"

"Wait!" Quinn shouted, holding out her arms to stop them from moving. "Nothing happened! Brittany was just confused!" Mercedes and Kurt stopped walking, halting to turn and look at the pair of blondes.

"But you said that they made sugar cookies and Rachel tied Santana up with her sweaters. If Rachel didn't do that to Santana, who did she do it with?" Brittany asked, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Quinn bit her lip and thought hard; how was she going to get out of this.

"No, Britt, no one had sex with anyone. I was just making it up." Mercedes and Kurt both leveled their gazes at Quinn, it was obvious she was lying about something, the gossip pair just couldn't know that she was lying about this _particular_ story.

"Hmmm mmmm, sure they didn't Quinn. Don't worry, we won't tell too many people." Mercedes said, grinning at Kurt mischievously, who returned the smirk.

"I'm serious guys, you can't tell people that!" Kurt cocked his head with mild interest.

"So you made up the story?" Quinn nodded hard, eyes wide. "There is _no_ truth in your delightful, yet disturbing tale?" Quinn shook her head with equal intensity. Kurt studied the blonde with a raised, sculpted eyebrow. "She's lying, let's go."

"No!" But Kurt and Mercedes were already power-walking through the store, heading to the elevators with determination. Quinn ran to keep up with them, but Brittany grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"Did they really make sugar cookies?" Brittany asked seriously, getting Quinn to narrow her eyes. "Because that's me and Santana's thing." Quinn saw hurt in the Cheerio's eyes.

"They didn't do ANYTHINGtogether! This is all just a misunderstanding!" Quinn yelled in frustration. She was glad that no one suspected her tryst with Rachel, but she also knew that Santana was going to flip the fuck out when she heard the rumor.

"So they just had sex, there was no baking." Brittany said with a smile as she hurried to catch an elevator. To Quinn's horror, Mercedes' and Kurt's had already descended. She shook her head at Brittany's thick-headedness, before she took off to join the blonde in the lift.

"They didn't have sex, Brittany!" Quinn said as the elevator doors closed behind them. Where was Santana? Was she still at the mall? How long would it take Kurt and Mercedes to tell the fiery Cheerio? And what if Rachel found out?

"Then who were you talking about? _You_ didn't have sex with Santana did you?" Brittany asked as she appraised the blonde from where she stood against the back railing of the elevator.

This was a sticky situation, Quinn thought. If she told Brittany no, then she'd ask if she and Rachel had sex. She could deny that as well, but then Brittany would just get more confused and there was no telling what new story the blonde would come up with. She hated herself for what she was about to do, but there was no way she could take the heat. And besides, Santana had a nasty rumor coming her way—all that shit she put Quinn through during the school year. As for Rachel…well Quinn didn't want to think about that.

"No, Britt," Quinn said softly as she ducked her head, ashamed. "They had sex." Brittany smiled brightly as the elevator doors opened. "Just don't tell S! And if she finds out, you can't tell her I told you!" Brittany nodded enthusiastically and exited the lift.

It didn't take the blondes long to find Mercedes, Kurt, Tina, and Artie huddled closely by the huge fountain in the middle of the ground floor of the mall.

"You guys, you can't tell _anyone_ what I told you!" Quinn said as she approached the group. They all turned to look at her—Mercedes and Kurt smiling smugly, Tina looking slightly green, and Artie with a look of utter horror on his face.

"Please don't tell me it's true. Please take it back. Please tell me that Rachel didn't gag Santana with a sock, tied up in argyle sweaters, while she wore her blue pantsuit." Artie begged. Quinn covered her face with her hands as she groaned, completely mortified that the rumor only got bigger in the few minutes since she last saw Mercedes and Kurt.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Matt and Mike came running up to the group.

"Is it true that Rachel tied Santana up and whipped her until Santana agreed to sing a duet while they had sex!"

"Oh, sweet Jesus! Where did you hear that from?" Kurt whispered excitedly. Quinn shook her head in agony several times.

"Sorry, Quinn. We already texted a bunch of people before you told us not to." Quinn's head fell back as she groaned.

"Who else did you tell?"

"I heard that it's been going on for a while, ever since Sectionals!" Mike said in wonder.

"Who did you hear that from, I heard since Regionals?" Kurt asked in astonishment.

"Um…we told a lot of people." At least Mercedes looked ashamed at her confession. But Quinn was reeling. If Matt and Mike had heard from _other_ people, not Glee people _already_, then this thing was seriously out of control and only a matter of time before Santana found out; if she hadn't heard already.

"Puck told me." Mike responded to Kurt's question.

"Puck?" Quinn shrieked. Ohhhh, this was no good. Puck knew, Santana _definitely _knew—or would know soon enough.

"Oh, there you guys are. Sorry, I got caught up in the music store." Quinn spun around at the sound of Rachel's voice, horrified and not at all ready to see the diva considering the previous evening. In fact, when _everyone_ turned to look at Rachel, they all were a little disconcerted—the rumor weighing heavily on their minds.

But the blonde's expression was the most horrified. Not because of the rumor—that had flown out of her head the second she heard the brunette's voice. But because the moment her eyes landed on the shorter girl, it felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her—Rachel looked gorgeous.

"Why's everyone staring at me like that? Do I have something on my face?" She asked fearfully, taking in the groups' wide-eyes and open mouths.

Rachel's gaze darted to each person in front of her until her eyes landed on Quinn. At the sight of the blonde, Rachel smiled softly with a shy look on her face. She slowly took a few tentative steps towards the blonde until she was standing in front of the girl—who was _beyond_ nervous for several reasons—with her hands behind her back and a look of complete enrapture on her face.

"Hi, Quinn." Rachel said dreamily. Quinn's grimace froze as her eyes flitted to the people around her—suddenly remembering she was in a public forum, surrounded by their friends. They were all looking at the scene with rapt interest. When her eyes landed back on the brunette, however, she couldn't help the guilt that washed over her. She had been trying desperately to forget about the night before but it hadn't worked. And not only was she feeling like the world's biggest asshole for bailing on Rachel that morning, but now with the rumor…well…who could blame her for taking off.

"Quinn! Quinn where are you going?" Rachel shouted as she watched Quinn haul ass towards the escalators. Without another thought in mind, the short brunette made chase. She knew that the blonde would react this way, completely stifled in her sexuality because of her upbringing and religion. She knew that she'd probably need to gently guide the blonde to a place of understanding and acceptance.

The group below watched as Rachel chased after Quinn on the floor above them—Rachel yelling out to the blonde as her shorter legs tried to keep up.

"Ten says Quinn makes a clean getaway." Mercedes said, eyes trained up at the two girls.

"Twenty says Rachel lassos her with her sweater." Kurt breathed out in enthralled attention.

"Did you get my flowers?" The brunette called out to Quinn.

"Leave me alone, Rachel!" The blonde yelled back over her shoulder as she dodged the many shoppers in her way.

"You called me Rachel! I guess that means you don't hate me!" The brunette shouted to be heard as she quickly maneuvered herself around a gaggle of pre-teens.

"Oh, I hate you all right!" Quinn screeched back as she ran up the next set of escalators that would take her to the third floor.

"I understand completely why you are so afraid and even being a little curt. However, I believe that after a meaningful conversation and a recap of previous interactions, that we can reach a level of acceptance and even move forward in our fledging relationship." Rachel said loudly towards the back of the escalators. There were many people in her way, preventing her from pushing up to reach Quinn. But lucky for her, Quinn was unable, as well, to proceed up and off the escalator. The blonde was trapped.

The people standing between the two girls, every single one of them listening to Rachel's argument, were now eyeing Quinn strangely.

"Don't pay attention to her, she got away from her care-giver and I'm on my way to alert security." Now everyone was looking at Rachel with wide eyes.

"Quinn! We need to talk about this!" Rachel wined, ignoring the blonde's comment.

"We have nothing to say to one another, Berry." Quinn called out over her shoulder, purposefully remembering to call Rachel by her last name this time. But after it came out of her mouth, she was disheartened to realize that it didn't feel natural.

"Well I have a fair amount to say to you, Quinn Fabray, so unless you want to have this talk amongst many strangers here in the mall-" Quinn groaned as she reached the top of the escalator, sucking her teeth as she waited for Rachel to meet her. The people around them hung about hoping that they'd get to hear more.

"Move along! Nothing to see here!" Quinn spat at them as Rachel reached her side. "Okay, Berry, let's get this over with." The blonde swiftly took a hold of Rachel's wrist and pulled the shorter girl along until they reached the loud arcade. The massive room was dim, lit by neon lights from the different games, and Quinn led them to the back of the arcade by the noisy rows of skeeball where they wouldn't be heard.

"Make this quick." Quinn said as she folded her arms across her chest. She wouldn't look at Rachel, however, because every time she did she would remember something from the previous night: the way Rachel would throw her head back in ecstasy, they way her eyes looked as she orgasmed, how her lips felt against Quinn's skin. The blonde shivered every time these thoughts would pass. She was shivering as they stood there.

"I want to start by saying that, although I was not pleased waking up alone this morning, I understand your hesitancy in regards to a physical relationship, especially with a woman." Quinn rolled her eyes as she listened, eyes firmly trained on two young boys playing some war game across from them.

"I want to further acknowledge that I intend to be patient with you. I do not expect an intimate rapport on a daily basis just because-"

"I'm _sorry_. What?" Quinn said, unable to remain stoic. Her eyes snapped to Rachel's, narrowing them at the shorter girl, as her arms dropped to her sides. "Rachel, last night was a _mistake_! I was drunk and…and…and you took advantage of me!" Quinn hissed as she pointed at the girl. Rachel's eyes went wide and it was her turn to cross her arms.

"_You_ kissed _me_ first, Quinn Fabray! _You_ got on top of _me!_ _You_ starting rubbing-" Quinn cupped her hand over Rachel's mouth and guided her towards the photo booth in the back of the arcade—Rachel still mumbling her retort as they went-and ducked inside before the brunette could finish the sentence; Rachel's voice had started carrying, alerting others to their conversation.

"Would you keep your voice down!" Quinn seethed, still with her hand over Rachel's mouth. Rachel was breathing hard against the pale palm, eyes a little wide as she looked up at Quinn. Was it wrong that the whole thing turned her on?

"I'm sorry, okay!" The blonde whispered loudly, hand unmoving. "I was drunk and, and, _things_ happened. And I'm sorry about leaving but I was a little freaked out if you can imagine!" Rachel nodded hard, mouth still captured by Quinn's hand. She mumbled something but it was muffled. "What was that?" The blonde asked wearily as she removed the palm covering Rachel's mouth.

"I asked if you received my flowers?" The brunette asked with a shy smile.

Quinn didn't want to feel it, but the sharp pang that hit her heart couldn't be prevented. Rachel had sent her flowers? No one had ever sent her flowers. The brunette caught the flash in Quinn's eyes—the one that made Rachel know that she was pleased with her thoughtfulness—before it vanished.

"I don't want you sending me flowers, Rachel. You can't send me flowers or look at me the way you're looking at me. Stop looking at me like that, Rachel!" Quinn raged. The brunette rearranged her features so she wasn't smiling quite so brightly or staring at the blonde with a love-struck expression.

Instead, Rachel looked around the small photo booth and tried to think of a way to soften Quinn without scaring her off.

"I swear to you that I won't breathe a word about what happened, Quinn. I have no intention of participating in locker-room gossip." The brunette said firmly, nodding her head once in promise.

Relief washed over Quinn in waves as she let out a sigh of release. This was good news. If Rachel didn't tell anyone then no one would know and-

"Wait a minute." Quinn said sharply, rounding on the shorter girl. "You're not going to tell anyone?" Rachel shook her head, eyes big and innocent. "Why not?" The blonde asked suspiciously.

"Honestly, Quinn, it's no one's business." She answered evenly as she crossed her arms over her chest. But Quinn kept eyeing her, waiting for more.

"So…if you don't want to continue…_you know_…why did you send me flowers?" The blonde asked guardedly.

"Oh I never said anything about not continuing to see you, Quinn. In fact, I'd very much like to further our relationship even if you are adverse to physicality and would prefer to wait a little longer-"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Quinn demanded, holding up a hand to halt Rachel's babbling. "So let me get this straight." She said slowly, narrowing her eyes. "You want to…date or whatever…but you don't want to _tell_ anyone. Is that what you're saying?" The blonde asked dryly.

"Yes, I believe that would be the ideal circumstance at this present juncture." Rachel said brightly, glad that Quinn was following along.

"Oh my, God." Quinn breathed out, eyes unfocused as she looked around the small photo booth. "Oh my, God! You're ashamed of me! Rachel _Berry_…is _ashamed_ of _me!"_ She let out in disbelief, stumbling back a little until she collapsed on the small stool inside the booth.

"Well, Quinn, I wouldn't say I'm _ashamed_ of you…it's just that after everything you put me through the past two years I think it would be a little hypocritical if I were to just, say, forgive and forget with you and yet dismiss other people. Not to say that there are _other_ people so much as one particular person, and although that mostly stems from the fact that I am disinterested in said person, it would seem that I have a bit of a pattern where 'bad boys' are concerned and I can honestly say that I have no interest in dating someone that has a bad reputation because that has _not _worked out for me in the past and even though you've changed considerably since you pregnancy, I wouldn't want to come off as someone who is hypocritical and or suffering from low self-esteem that they have to surround themselves amongst popular people and make them like me just to feel adequate." Rachel took a deep breath as she watched Quinn's blank expression imploringly.

She didn't want to hurt Quinn's feelings and she very much so wanted to continue with their relationship. But she didn't like the way Finn Hudson accused her—his accusations and insights most likely came from Kurt, but still. And she hated even more that she thought he could possibly be a right.

She was a little gun-shy after Jesse and she didn't want to get into anything only to be hurt so brutally again. And despite Quinn's changes, the beautiful blonde _definitely _had the arsenal to destroy Rachel.

But she _wanted_ to see where this could lead with Quinn; needed to. The night before had been _explosive_ and there was no turning back for her. She was just hoping that if they kept it quiet, if they were able to explore their relationship away from the public, Quinn would surpass her expectations and be the sweet and caring Quinn she experienced the previous night so that she could throw it in Finn Hudson's face.

And if she was wrong, if Quinn turned out to be as every bit as mean as Finn had promised, well then at the very least she would cry about it behind closed doors and no one would be the wiser.

It made perfect sense to the brunette.

But Quinn hadn't heard a damn word Rachel had said. She just sat there, aghast, that someone as low on the social totem poll as Rachel Berry could want to hide her away. That everything that happened to the blonde the previous year had made her unwantable.

_Am I still carrying too much baby weight? Is it because I'm not a Cheerio? Is it because I was irresponsible enough to get pregnant? Because I'm too affected by what others think? Because I drank alcohol twice now? _

Quinn sat there raking her brain over where she had gone wrong. What her problem was. No one, absolutely _no one_ had even shown the _slightest_ interest in her since the pregnancy. Puck aside, because Puck wants everyone.

And now Rachel Berry was asking for a secret relationship. The girl who's standards only applied to Jacob Ben-Israel. The girl who made Quinn feel _so_ alive not even twenty-four hours earlier…

Quinn felt like crying. Was she that undesirable?

As Rachel rambled on—basically to herself—Quinn's gaze caught sight of the mirror inside the photo booth. She evaluated her appearance, thoughtfully, trying to guess what others saw when they looked at her. What Rachel saw.

True, right now she looked tired. But that was mostly because she had spent all night in the throws of passion…with Rachel.

Quinn bit her lip as she cocked her head side to side in judgment. What if she was better? What if she could prove again that she was a force to be reckoned with? She could join Cheerios—practices were starting Monday after all, she hadn't missed anything. It wouldn't hurt to make a few changes—Quinn two point zero, new and improved. Maybe then Rachel would want her.

"…And understand when I say that I'm _very_ interested in officially dating you but if for just a short while-"

"I have to go." Quinn said suddenly, jumping to her feet and effectively cutting Rachel off.

"But, Quinn, we were speaking about perhaps-"

"I have to talk to Ms. Sylvester about Cheerios." The blonde said absentmindedly, already formulating a plan.

"…Ooookay?" Rachel said uncertainly. "When can we finish discussing…us?" Rachel asked shyly. Still biting her lip, Quinn finally focused on the girl who was in very close proximity to her. She watched as Rachel looked up at her questioningly and processed what the brunette had just said. Again it struck the blonde just how beautiful Rachel looked. Sure she knew all along that the girl was attractive. But now…since what happened, Quinn felt as though she was seeing Rachel for the first time. And with her new eyes, Rachel's beauty was _staggering. _

"Um…ah…later." She didn't want to talk more about whatever was going on between them until she had something to show Rachel that she was worth being with. "I have to go." She repeated and opened the curtain to the photo booth, fully intending on showing the gorgeous girl with the perfect body and enormous talent that she had something worthwhile to offer.

But when she caught sight of the pair moving towards her covering, Quinn panicked and ducked back behind the curtains and into the booth, eyes wide and expression fearful.

"What is it, Quinn? Who's out-" But Quinn slapped her hand over Rachel's mouth and with her eyes told Rachel not to say a word.

"Why the hell are you smirking at me like that, Puckerman?" Rachel scrunched her eyebrows at Santana's voice, not at all understanding why she couldn't speak. It was only Santana and Puck after all. Scary as Santana was, what was the big deal?

"Oh, I think you _know_ why I'm smiling." He retorted smugly.

Quinn's stomach clenched painfully. She was trapped! If she left the photo booth, the two would see her with Rachel and Puck would have a _field_ day with the brunette being there considering he knew the rumor. And Santana would go nuts wondering what she and Rachel had been doing in a photo booth of all places, without taking actual photos…and hell, even _with _photos it looked a little weird.

But the blonde was pretty sure that Puck was about to tell Santana about the rumor Quinn had started. Which means that Rachel would hear the rumor. And she'd also hear Santana's remarks about the brunette—which would no doubt be demeaning to say the least.

Once Puck caught sight of Rachel—_his_ remarks would probably be a lot worse…and _a lot_ more disturbing. And just ewwie.

Quinn's eyes fell to big brown ones, eyes that were begging her to let her know what was going on and also begging for something else—if Rachel's labored breathing meant anything. She felt light-headed by the force of that gaze. She couldn't remember Rachel's eyes ever being so beautiful or her lips quite so pouty.

She wasn't proud of herself, but she needed to keep the brunette preoccupied so she wouldn't hear the rumor and the awful things that were to come from Santana. And if she were honest, Quinn mostly just wanted to do it. _Needed_ to do it. The small space of the photo booth was getting to her. Rachel's pleading eyes were getting to her. The intoxicating smell that surrounded her was most definitely getting to her.

Quinn's hand slowly slid from the brunette's mouth as she let her thumb roam over the singer's full lips. Their intense gazes locked and the blonde licked her lips as she fell into the hypnotizing brown that made her feel warm _everywhere. _

"We have to be quiet." Quinn breathed out, swallowing heavily. Rachel nodded, dazed, as her breathing picked up even more—her body tingling from Quinn's thumb tracing her mouth and the heady way the blonde was looking at her.

Rachel stood on tip-toes and Quinn met her in the middle, softly letting their mouths meet but with a force that knocked both of the air from their lungs, and Rachel back against one wall of the booth.

They both moaned long and deep and Rachel wove her fingers through Quinn's hair, clinging to her as the blonde possessively seized the brunette's hips with her hands. Their tongues met, sliding against the other, as their kisses got more passionate.

They both stumbled into their kiss, not at all focused on working legs, until Rachel pushed Quinn back to the stool where the blonde promptly crashed down on top of it. The brunette was in her lap in no time, straddling her as the panted into each others mouths as silently as they could.

As Rachel's fingers dug into blonde hair, yanking and pulling a little with each wave of arousal that coursed through her, Quinn's hands slid down to the brunette's thighs and she snaked her hands up until she was squeezing Rachel's ass.

"Oh God." Rachel whimpered as she ripped her mouth from Quinn's, ducking her head to the blonde's shoulder where she started to suck and lick. She pushed away the long hair and went to work as Quinn massaged her ass hard in desire, and tilted her head so Rachel could fully attack her neck.

"Jesus." Quinn gasped, loving the feel of Rachel's mouth on her skin again. She dragged her hands back to Rachel's thighs and slowly glided her palm up between them.

Rachel's head fell back, away from Quinn's neck, as she felt the blonde cup her. She was vaguely aware of the heated yelling just outside the booth and the random _dings_ and buzzing that erupted from the different games in the arcade. But for all that it mattered to the brunette, it mind as well be an infomercial.

Instead of listening to the noises around her, she was too caught up in the feel of Quinn's fingers slithering up and down the front of her drenched panties. She looked down at Quinn's face and saw hazel eyes taking in each wave of pleasure that passed through the brunette's expressions in wonder and lust.

Rachel draped her arms around Quinn's neck as she bent forward to lay her forehead against the blonde's as she panted into Quinn's mouth.

As fingers danced against the front of her panties, stroking her hard clit, Rachel was rolling her hips in short, hard thrusts to meet each movement, eyes locked on the blonde's in raw passion.

"Yessss." Rachel hissed against Quinn's lips as she felt the blonde's fingers brushing aside her panties. One long finger slid into Rachel's pussy, deep and slow, over and over again. Just how she did last night that made the brunette so responsive.

Rachel clung to Quinn as she rocked into the finger; raising her hips off the blonde's lap, riding it hard and fast.

Rachel was so wet that a second finger slipped into the shorter girl without Quinn even meaning for it to. But this just made Rachel's pace quicken even further; practically slamming her body against Quinn's hand.

Both girls could no longer keep their eyes open—possessed by the intensity to which they felt and the absolute desire that was driving them. Each time Rachel's body crashed down and grinded on Quinn's lap, the blonde's heart jumped and her clit leapt in her panties at the delicious contact.

Soon Rachel's mouth was latching onto Quinn's in utter desperation. Their collective breathing, short and choppy, as the blonde fucked Rachel was making the experience all that more intense.

Quinn was reeling with each thrust—not quite remembering how incredible it felt to be inside Rachel the previous evening in detail, and frantic to memorize how warm and tight it was. How powerful and overwhelmed she was feeling as Rachel's inner muscled clung to her in a frenzy of arousal.

Rachel's orgasm was quickly approaching. Her one hand roughly seized Quinn's right breast—needing to touch the blonde intimately—and Quinn moaned into her mouth from the contact. It was all Rachel needed.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" The brunette heatedly whimpered over and over again as she squeezed Quinn's breast harder as her hips slammed against the blonde's fingers with urgent thrusts.

As Quinn felt the additional wetness reach her hand coupled with the feel of Rachel's walls clutching her fingers in a pulsating rhythm, the blonde felt her clit twitch erratically until she was coming as well.

Both girls ducked their heads in each others shoulders as they panted against one another's skin, breathing hard and continuing to throb and quiver.

Rachel moved her head away first, kissing Quinn's forehead several times before her lips found the blonde's. She lay soft, quick pecks on Quinn's mouth—both their eyes still closed—as they tried to hold on to their moment a little longer.

Quinn slowly withdrew from inside Rachel and ran her hands up and down the brunette's back in what she hoped was a soothing way. Rachel smiled at the gesture; remember that the blonde did the same thing the night before after each time they made love.

Soon Rachel's forehead was resting against Quinn's. Their eyes still remained shut but they both smiled softly, content in each others arms.

"Fine! I had sex with Rachel Berry! Are you happy now?" Both girls' eyes snapped open at Santana's words. They girl had actually screamed them and Quinn was pretty sure the whole arcade had heard.

"I knew it!" Puck cheered, just outside the booth. "Is everything else they're saying true; you two had hot, kinky, lesbo sex?" The leer was audible.

"Yes! We had extremely hot, kinky, lesbo sex. Now leave me alone Puck!" Puck said something back but it was obvious that he was chasing after Santana because his voice was very far away.

"What did they just say?" Rachel asked, eyes wide as she stared at Quinn in horror. But it was nothing to what Quinn was feeling.

She figured that once Santana heard the rumor that she'd deny it and be her usual bitchy self. She'd always be able to make it up to the brunette, showing her though different deeds and actions that Santana was wrong.

She'd _never_ believe that Santana would lie and say she _did_ have sex with Rachel Berry! Quinn thought it was more unbelievable then Quinn _actually_ _having_ _sex_ with Rachel Berry!

The blonde was so lost in thought that she didn't even realize that Rachel had scrambled off her lap and was about to chase after Santana and Puck.

"Get back here!" Quinn hissed as she watched Rachel disappear between the photo booth curtains.

"Quinn! Did you hear what Santana said! And what Noah said! She told him she and I had sex! I am _not_ going to let her get away with that hideous rumor!"

Just outside Bloomindales, Quinn caught up to the mini brunette and gently grabbed her wrist preventing her from getting any farther. "Rachel, just stop for a moment!"

"Quinn Fabray, release my arm and defend my honor!" Rachel demanded, looking every bit as furious as she felt. The blonde panicked as she tried to think of a way to distract Rachel. The rumor was her fault, a fact she didn't want the brunette to know.

"We just had sex, Rachel!" Quinn whispered loudly, still clutching the shorter girl's wrist. "We just had sex in freaking public! In a gross photo booth! Can't S's bullshit take a backseat for a second?" Quinn pleaded.

Rachel appraised Quinn for a long moment, getting loose from the blonde's hold and crossing her arms as she looked up at the girl. Slowly she started to smile softly, loving how gorgeous the taller girl's eyes looked—flecks of green showing in the irises—and conceded.

"I am deeply sorry for taking off like that. I know how it feels to be abandoned after intimate moments." Quinn fought hard not to roll her eyes at the dig. "Maybe we could go somewhere and talk about what is happening between us?" Rachel asked shyly as she uncrossed her arms and let her one finger run down the blonde's pale arm.

Quinn shivered at the contact. She was pleased that Rachel was no longer on the hunt for S or Puck…and she was still feeling the affects of what just took place.

"Maybe we could go back to my place and I can see those flowers?" Quinn whispered, eyes downcast. She was feeling very nervous all of a sudden. The mall was so bright compared to the darkened arcade and now everything felt very real.

"Where would you like to go?" Quinn furrowed her eyebrows at the comment, figuring it was obvious that she intended to go back to her mother's house where Rachel undoubtedly sent the arrangement. Upon seeing the blonde's confusion, Rachel quickly clarified. "Well you are not _officially_ moved back in at your mother's house so I sent a bouquet to both the Jones' household and to your mother's house just in case." The brunette bit her lip and Quinn smiled in disbelief as she rolled her eyes in awe. Of course Rachel Berry would do that. It was thorough and succinct.

"My mom is at work, we'll start there." Quinn answered, still smiling as she turned and headed towards the exits.

"Are you sure she is at work, Quinn? Because my morning started off rather unpleasantly when Judy unexpectedly arrived home and I had to do a fair bit of covert-ops-like hiding to avoid getting caught." Rachel explained as she hurriedly tried to keep up with the blonde.

It was the second time Rachel Berry followed Quinn Fabray home. But it wouldn't be the last.


End file.
